Madness
by niklovr
Summary: AU. Set in present day Los Angeles, Arthur Pendragon considers the possibility of soulmates after a chance encounter of sorts with Guinevere Degrance. This is a one-shot, complete work of fic.


_[Author's Note: This is a ficlet placing Arthur and Guinevere in the present day across the pond and in Southern California. There was a tumblr challenge to use the following words: obsession, strawberries, late, eraser, culture, hat, glasses. I made a slight variation with one of the words, but otherwise, I managed to make them all work. The title comes from the Muse song, "Madness" which serves as a bit of inspiration. Reviews/comments are always appreciated so I hope to hear from you. And if you're reading my other Arwen fics, more is coming. The next chapter of __Destined for Greatness__ has been posted, so be sure to check that out. Yes, Arthur and Gwen finally meet! Grad school, work, and RL are the priority right now, but I try to fit the fic in when I can. Your patience is so appreciated!] _

_Madness_

_Obsession was not the right word for it. This driving compulsion—no. This need to see her every day. Arthur Pendragon awoke every morning inside his Malibu beach house with a vision of dark brown curls framing a lovely, angelic face. He had yet to learn her name, but after weeks of adoring her from a distance, he decided that the day would not come to an end without words passing between them. _

_Few would understand his reasoning, but wealth was a problem. Not the abundance of it or the luxuries it afforded, but the expectations that were attached. Meeting new people was often filled with the chores of analysis and observation. Especially when the opposite sex was involved. He didn't want to accuse them all of being gold diggers, but experience refused to let him rule it out. However, for some reason, he didn't get that vibe from her. How could he? They had never spoken. She probably never noticed him. Yet, he, as he dressed for the day in his disguise as a moderate wage earner, reminisced over the first time she caught his attention._

_It had been late summer. He'd gone to Leimert Park to watch his best friend take center stage at an open mic poetry slam. Merlin hadn't wowed Arthur or the crowd with his flow about getting lost on the Red Line. The poem wasn't horrible, but a guy named Helios followed him and his lines about love and loss amid a Lakers game had the packed coffee shop vibrating with interest. _

_That's when Arthur saw her. She sat near the stage. A lacy shawl hung loosely around her bare shoulders. Although the room was stifled with body heat, she seemed oblivious to it. An enigmatic smile curved her lips as she nodded to Helios' words. While others quenched their thirst with iced coffee or alcohol, she drank nothing. The poetry—even Merlin's—had held her full attention. Arthur had never been so jealous in all his life. _

_So today, he headed back to Leimert Park. To complete his disguise he swapped his 500SL with his cousin, Percival's Explorer. Arthur supposed this was an exploration of sorts. A quest, if you will. He didn't know if anything would come of it. Who knew if The One existed or if soulmates were the creation of hopeless romantics? However, he did know he'd never felt anything like what hit him when their eyes met for just the briefest moment. No, rockets didn't explode and butterflies didn't erupt in his gut, but something rippled through him. Softly like a whisper. Fiercely like a thunderstorm. Whatever it was, he couldn't shake it and he would be damned if he didn't confront her and discover if she had felt __it__, too. _

_~M-m-madness~_

Guinevere Degrance loved fall. She loved how the leaves changed from green to vibrant red, bold orange, and majestic gold. She loved how the air signaled that something different was on the horizon and she always anticipated the change. Yet this time, change wasn't as exciting as she had expected. Los Angeles was interesting, of course. The people, the culture, the opportunity—but, Lord, how she missed the change in seasons. Three years back on the West Coast and the consistent, green palm trees were getting to her.

When she completed her grad program at Berklee College and decided to rejoin her brother, Elyan, in LA, she had no idea that she would grow to miss the New England seasons. The blustering winters were the worst, but fall… How her heart soared at the thought of the multi-hued trees and the crisp fall apples.

Gwen sighed as she shifted her full shopping tote onto her left shoulder. Well, in California, she could have fresh strawberries all year long. She couldn't beat that, now could she? Nor could she dismiss that the near-perfect weather allowed her to perform all year in the fresh outdoors at Third Street Promenade. Sure her father, Tom, was pitching a fit up above with the heavenly angels as he watched his daughter waste her Master's degree on the street corners of Santa Monica, but in all honesty, her degree wasn't being wasted. Her songs, voice and guitar were building an audience. Maybe one day his big dreams for her would be realized and her hopes for herself wouldn't have to be erased. Maybe they could be blended together. She didn't know how, just that she was done with sacrificing herself to please anyone. His sudden death had taught her that the hard way.

Gwen's walk from the market was coming to an end as she turned onto her street. Trendy bungalows lined one side of Degnan Boulevard while stately homes lined the other. That was another plus about Los Angeles—the diversity. The architecture reflected the eclectic mix of the neighborhood. Since she left, the upwardly mobile black neighborhood had expanded to include the Chilean family across the street and the Thai couple at the end of the block. So while pondering the various shades of brown of her surroundings, Gwen couldn't help but notice the tall, blonde Adonis loitering outside her favorite coffeehouse.

She ducked behind a tree to get a good look at him. Shiny, aviator glasses hid his eyes but emphasized the perfection of his nose and full lips. Her attention wavered on his mouth longer than she had intended and she had to mentally shake herself out of the stupor. A quick perusal of the rest—a snug black t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and chest and dark indigo jeans hung low on his slim hips—led her to one conclusion.

"That's him," she murmured to herself.

It was the guy from poetry night, jazz at the park, and her Third Street crowd. She'd seen him numerous times and had felt him, too. His interest. Curiosity. Normally that kind of intensity unnerved her, but not this time. Not him. A few times, she came close to making the first move but something held her back. Today she sensed an urge to move forward. Perhaps the fall day inspired her. A need for change motivated her to move. Be bold. Be vibrant. Be majestic.

But first, she had to put her groceries away.

_~M-m-madness~_

Arthur sat at the table and stared sightlessly at the strangers walking along the sidewalk. The coffeehouse had few patrons this time of day, and he imagined that he was a bit of a curiosity to the few who were there. For maybe the fifth time, he began to question himself and his motives. Or maybe his technique. Hanging out in her neighborhood café wouldn't necessarily get him arrested, but if she had noticed him as much as he'd noticed her…

Who was he kidding? He could have sworn he saw her not fifteen minutes ago. She stood on the residential end of the street, beautiful as ever, and content in her world until she spotted him. Then she slipped behind a tree. He added money to the parking meter as a cover and by the time he looked again, she was gone. To try to find her in the maze of houses would have been ludicrous if not a bit on the stalker side. So he returned to the café, ordered an espresso and bought a paper. He was partaking of both when that strange sensation surged through him.

"Hi," she said, standing at his table with coffee in hand and hat on her head just as he looked up. "Mind if I sit."

"No." He stood and pulled out a chair. "Please… Would you like something else to go with that? A croissant? A bagel?"

"Let's start with coffee. Maybe I'll let you buy me food after I know your name."

He laughed. The humor in her dark eyes dazzled him and his laughter ended with a smile.

"I'm Arthur."

"Gwen…or Guinevere," she added with a shrug as she set her hat and purse on a nearby empty seat.

"Guinevere. Sounds regal. I like it."

Hints of pink appeared on her cheek. She glanced into her cup for just a moment before meeting his gaze with a short nod and a smile. "Thank you."

Her conversational voice wasn't quite how he'd imagined it, but it was no less pleasing. In fact, everything about her pleased him a great deal. The freshness of her heart-shaped face made it difficult for him to guess her age, but he didn't mind. Her eclectic blend of colors and scarves with her sweater, skirt, and boots seemed to fit her personality. Although all he knew about her disposition was gleaned from the few songs he'd heard her sing in Santa Monica. He guessed she had penned them. If so, she was a deep, thoughtful, creative, beautiful woman.

"I've seen you around."

He was wondering if she had noticed. He smirked at the knowledge that she had.

"Have you?"

"Don't play coy."

He laughed again. "Busted. A friend aspires to be a poet. I attended the slam a while back."

"Which friend?"

"Merlin. Dark hair, skinny, ears—"

"I know Merlin," she said. "He's dating a friend of mine."

Arthur frowned. This was news to him. "Which friend?"

"Freya. Dark hair, beautiful eyes, good sense of humor—"

"I don't know her. He never mentioned a girlfriend."

She toyed with the handle of her cup. "It's new. Maybe he doesn't want to jinx it."

"You know."

She smiled that enigmatic smile that caused his breath to catch. "I introduced them."

"Oh, a matchmaker, too."

"Not exactly. I just get a vibe about things. They seemed like a good fit."

"Hmm…"

He watched as her eyebrows arched. She seemed on the verge of something profound, but instead, of sharing it with him, she kept it to herself. That disappointed him more than he wanted to admit.

"So, what do you do, Arthur, when you're not skulking around Leimert Park in the middle of the day?"

"Skulking?" He reared back in a half-hearted attempt at offense. "I'm drinking coffee and reading a paper. That's hardly nefarious behavior."

"Depends on who you ask." She peered over her shoulder as if she'd question the couple behind them. As her lips parted, he touched her hand.

"Guinevere—"

The sensation was like a bolt of electricity had shocked his system. From her sudden jolt, he had no doubt that she felt it, too. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. She stared at him in wonder. He waited for his heart rate to return to normal before he spoke.

"Would you call that a vibe?"

She nodded. "Yes, I suppose I would."

"Enough of one that I'm allowed to buy you food?"

She laughed. "Yeah, we can start with food."

A start. He liked the sound of that.

The End


End file.
